


Thinking Inside the Box

by Waldo



Series: NCIS LA: No Longer Missing [2]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Humor, M/M, Post-Missing, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-02
Updated: 2010-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a month since the Bank Job, two weeks since Dom's body has been found and Callen is feeling introspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking Inside the Box

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NCISDaily - Prompt for March 2 - unicorn.
> 
> Ties in with my March 1st story - "None Loves the Messenger". Theorizes that Dom won't be found alive, but at the time of this writing, the show has not resolved that storyline and there are no (that I've seen) spoilers out for how it will end. This is speculative.

Callen knew he'd lied to Kensi last month, and by omission, he'd lied to Sam. He might have said something to Sam, but he kind of liked the idea that Sam knew that he didn't keep _stuff_. Because, for the most part, that was completely true.

But he'd had this habit since early in his childhood of trying things that he'd noticed that 'normal people' did. Like when he'd been in first grade and he'd started telling people that he had a pet, since normal kids seemed to have cats and dogs and goldfish. He'd quickly learned to do more research when he'd confused a pit bull with a poodle and he'd said he'd carried his pit bull up the stairs. His teacher had figured out that he was making things up and made him stand in the corner until lunch. But still, every once in a while, he'd try the kinds of things that he saw other people – people who knew about things like parents and permanence – doing. So after the discussion about Kensi's box-of-stuff, G had pulled out the old wooden tea-box he'd put his one and only childhood picture in a while back.

There were several things in his appropriated tea-box now. The picture that Arkady had sent of him and Alina and his first ever birthday card (and the stub from the Lakers' game ticket that had been in it, taped neatly to the back) that Sam had given him after the bank heist case had started it.

A couple of weeks ago he'd added a green alien bobble-head doll.

He'd always been the practical one, so when Dom's body had finally been found, G had called the younger agent's parents and then cleaned out his desk. It wasn't that he wasn't affected by Dom's loss, but he'd endured so much loss that he was pretty numb to it, especially at first, and he was able to compartmentalize it and file it away long before anyone else could. Sam and Nate had had their hands full with Kensi and Eric anyway. Besides, he coped better when there was something – anything – to do.

He supposed he should put the doll with the rest of the things Kensi and Nate had boxed up for Dom's family from his apartment. According to Dom it was worth a few bucks. But for some reason once he'd picked it up, he'd had a hard time putting it in the box of personal belongings from Dom's desk. If anyone came looking for it, he'd turn it over. Claim he was just keeping it safe.

Once he was done he'd gone straight to Sam's, where he called from the driveway just so Sam didn't hear him picking the lock and greet him with his Sig. Sam had just muttered 'uh-huh' when G said he was coming over. He was back asleep by the time G had stripped and crawled under the covers with him. Sam had tossed an arm around G's ribs and G had buried his face into the crook of Sam's neck.

Sam roused himself enough to ask if everything was okay and Callen shrugged and said, "Sure," because he knew he was supposed to, but truthfully it was starting to settle in. Inwardly he wondered which would be worse tomorrow: actually dealing with how he felt about Dom's death or how he'd deal with Nate dealing with how he was dealing.

He suspected Sam would bludgeon the truth out of him in the morning when they both weren't in such desperate need of sleep, but for now, knowing that G wasn't hurt was good enough for them both and they slept fitfully until Sam's alarm went off at six-thirty.

On top of the card was an origami unicorn. Just looking at it made G smile. Nate had _finally_ hooked up with Rose-the-M.E. a few days after Dom had been buried and Sam and G had taken great delight in teasing the details out of him mercilessly. Sam had been folding and refolding a sheet of paper as G sat on the edge of his desk looking on. When Nate had stumbled out some kind of lame answer about why the night had ended early, Sam had made a few alterations to what G was thinking would be either a dog or a horse and turned it into a unicorn. G understood in an instant and laughed so hard he fell off the desk.

It was later that day, when he was getting his second icepack for the bruise on his back, from hitting the corner of Sam's desk on the way down, that he realized it was the first time he'd truly laughed since Dom's funeral a week prior. When he was sure Sam was busy upstairs, he'd pocketed the unicorn to keep in his box.

He wasn't sure how one decided what went in the box and what didn't. But this seemed like the kind of stupid little thing that should. Maybe. He thought about asking Sam how people prioritized, but that would mean admitting that he _had_ such a box and he wasn't sure he was there yet. Of course it was entirely possible that Sam knew anyway. G still hadn't settled on a permanent home and he still dragged his duffle from pillar to post. And when G's back acted up, courtesy of five exit wounds – or the corner of Sam's desk - Sam took his bag for him, and he'd probably felt the box – always shoved to the bottom of the bag – banging against his leg.

G shrugged to himself. It didn't matter. Sam wouldn't bring it up unless it became important. Sam understood him like that.

He supposed he'd have to learn to make the decision about what went in and what didn't soon. If he filled up this box he'd need another. And he couldn't just cart around a duffle bag full of tea-boxes full of stupid little things like birthday cards and origami unicorns.

He supposed he could get a storage unit. Or a house. Maybe that was why so many people got houses with more space than any one or a few people really needed to live. They needed a place to keep all those boxes. He put the unicorn back and closed the lid. He should really start looking for a place to keep his boxes.


End file.
